Favourite Thing

My kiddo is very much into trains. I've been promising to take him on a train for months now; since we moved to this little city, we've driven past the train station almost every time we go in the car, just to see if there's any trains. We've pedalled past, and doubled back to wait for trains to come when we hear the signals go. We've watched on foot as trains have rumbled past the train playground. And then we finally went on a train.

It's the most wonderful thing, watching your child step out of their comfort zone and grow, become more worldly, bigger, braver. We arrived at the station and got a special ticket - special because the trains were running free and we didn't need it, but the lovely fellow in the office realised the nature of our trip and knew how special a ticket can be, for an almost three year old. A thing to have, in his hands, that he can take home and remember his train trip by. We waited on the platform with anticipation, and as the train rumbled in, people started to flock forward to get on, my beautiful kiddo hit his wall. It's one thing to watch the trains go by from a distance, another entirely get on the train. So I bundled him up, kicking and screaming, and on we got.

The tantrum lasted about 30 seconds (thankfully) and we found a seat by the window. He was cuddled up to me like a koala as we started to move off, but within 5 minutes I had been kicked off the seat and took my place next to him. And he had grown up, a little bit more, in that short space of time.

We didn't go far. Twenty minutes later we hopped off at a little town, waved goodbye to the train as it continued on its journey, and wandered into town to find a playground and some lunch. Had I been more organised I would have packed a picnic lunch for us, but I was not, and a cafe lunch has become a bit of a rare treat for us now.  So we found a sweet little place, just perfect really, and enjoyed a simple and lovely lunch together. He charmed everyone at the cafe and then we wandered our way back to the station, to wait for the homeward bound train.

And of course this time on the train, he was a seasoned traveller, taking it all in his stride, confident and comfortable, over-confident and boisterous.

Days like this remind me just how fleeting it all is, being a parent. Watching a little person grow in front of your eyes, it's so easy to miss the changes, the growing up, all the little things. When we chatted at dinner about our favourite part of the day, we both said going on the train was our favourite thing. In truth every part of the day was my favourite thing. I'll be dragging him back to do it again soon, I think.

Getting Dirty.

My little one is so happy to wander around barefoot everywhere. Me, not so much. I have this thing with dirt. I love having it, I love digging in it, I love growing plants in it, but I'm not so keen on getting it on me. Unless it comes from a few hours spent riding my bike, then I'm happy to bask in my dirt tan, but otherwise, not so keen on dirt.

I don't think I was always this way. I remember as a kid, going to my horse riding lesson each week and afterwards, I would want to stay in my (dirty, grotty) riding gear as long as possible and I didn't want to wash my hands, because they smelled like horse. Which I loved. Now? Well, I suppose I became a grown up, or perhaps, I became responsible for keeping the house clean and free from dirt, and horse.

I imagine there is a continuum of sorts for dirt tolerance, and my little one is somewhere at the very high tolerance end and I am somewhere at the very low tolerance end. And I wonder how healthy it is to be where I am. It's almost like I've developed a little anxiety about it. I'm certainly super vigilant about not bringing dirt into the house, and I'll acknowledge that I'm a little too vigilant about it.

This little one teaches me every single day, showing myself to me, showing me all the parts of me that have become - out of touch, I suppose. I mean we are creatures of the Earth as much as any other animal, yet we build ourselves nice clean houses and have nice clean clothes and remove ourselves from it, keep it 'out there'. But in doing that, we lose touch with our connection to our Earth, and with much of our abilities to ground, and to sense, feel, from contact with the Earth. Quite literally, our feet are designed to sense things from the ground up, and yet we cover them up, most often in synthetic materials, and lose our ability to tune in and connect with the Earth. We do ourselves a disservice.

I know it is something I need to work on, relaxing myself enough to forget about keeping the house (and me) clean and instead, focus on enjoying the moments of connection, through bare feet on the Earth. Not just on the special days when we go to the beach or to a park and kick off our shoes, but in the everyday. In the vegie garden, is probably a good place to start.

Taking lessons from my kid, every single day.

Motherhood and The Spiritual Path

I saw a beautiful Tarot card image recently, an interesting, and beautiful, depiction of The Lovers that showed a woman clearly facing a decision between two paths - one being the spiritual path and the other being the mothering, family path. The card really stuck a cord with me, and it brought up for me something I have often pondered.

For me, the spiritual path has become the driving force in my life. Since that kundalini thing happened; I know this as I felt the shift. But that's what happens, it changes you from the inside out and I feel completely blessed that that has been my experience. I find myself now utterly devoted to resolving all issues of separation and becoming all that I AM in unity, in alignment with the highest aspects of my divine soul self. It sounds complicated but really, what it means in more everyday terms is that I intend to deal with all the the emotional baggage I am carrying, or have ever carried - be that in this lifetime or previous lifetimes, be that on this planet or in other forms of existence. It's a big job, because there's always something else to deal with, to resolve. This karmic connection or that. And then there is the aspect of moving through everyday life, without developing further emotional issues to be resolved. Of moving through everyday life being in the flow, being in the moment and finding acceptance. Of watching myself, to see where the sore spots are, what gets me annoyed and irritable, what sparks my temper, and encouraging and allowing myself to release control and let things just be (ahh, control issues!). To let life wash over me and not have to 'do' anything; to just 'be'.

I have often caught myself thinking how wonderful it would be to just focus entirely on my spiritual practice - the aspects of meditation, prayer, healing, channeling. Of being guided and in close contact with higher dimensions. All of these things I do, but I can only give it my full attention in my evenings, a few hours a day at most. So I wonder, what would it be like to devote my entire days to this practice? Imagine how quickly I would evolve! Imagine how much 'stuff' I could deal with! Imaging the blissfully deep meditations I could stay in, and stay in, and stay in, and stay in... And then at some point my imaginings are broken by a toddler needing a mama to kiss it better, or read a book, or the mountain of washing that seems to never diminish (seriously, there's only two of us, why so much washing?), or the dishes in the kitchen that need attention, or wondering what are we going to eat this week, or remembering to feed the cats, and the dog, and the neighbourhood rabbit. And take the bins out. You know, the simple, routine tasks of everyday life, and particularly the life of being a mother (or father, for that matter) at home with a young child, where so much of the focus, of necessity and given graciously, is on another.

But every time I find myself wondering about the devoted spiritual path, I look at my own life, and I realise I wouldn't change it. Because to me, the challenge is in bringing the spiritual aspects to my everyday life, to make it the deeply spiritual existence I crave. At the moments when I'm tired and grumpy, when my toddler is tired and grumpy, and worst - when we're both tired and grumpy. When I feel the pull of all the things I'd love to be doing - going for a run, or a ride, or to that yoga class - all the things I would love to do for me, but which are just not an option most of the time.Those times are a minefield of opportunity for spiritual practice. Truly, it is so easy to connect to the higher aspects of myself in meditation. It's there, it's me, it is who I AM. It is in finding, in feeling, that connection when my life shows me all my points of disconnect that I truly make the greatest spiritual progress. When the dinner hour is falling to pieces and I ask 'how can I bring more love to this situation?'. When I look around my home and feel weighed down by seemingly endless jobs to be done. When my child is wide awake at a time when I desperately want him to be asleep, and my own inner child fixates on the unfairness of it all. And I choose to accept it, to open up to it and to offer no resistance to it, and do it all with gratitude and kindness. At least, I try to...

And it's all a work in progress, this life, as I am presented with opportunity after opportunity to bring about a merging of my spiritual path and my everyday life of raising a small child. Motherhood is the most demanding role I have ever had, and it shows me day in and day out where my spiritual work is at.

So perhaps it is time to move away from polarity, from the either/or choices of spiritual devotion or motherhood, and allow for the possibility that a truly, deeply spiritual life can be lived in the everyday; in the messy, beautiful, demanding and ultimately amazing and rewarding experience that is motherhood. That is my path.

And besides, you can't send them back, can you. Kidding...

*******

It's been a while since I posted on the blog. I have really considered the future of this blog many times, and during my time away decided that I absolutely, positively would not write here any more. And then I was very strongly guided that I would indeed write here again. And it has taken a good while to figure out just what this blog will be about now. Well, that's not entirely true. I know that in essence, this blog is about my spiritual path. I just have no idea how that will be expressed. I simply do not know. So if you're interested on joining me for this journey, I would love to have you stay. I am completely aware that the changes in my writing, in what I write about, in how I write, will not resonate with some, and will resonate more strongly with others. So it goes, right? It's good to be back.

Summer Rain

A rainy summer evening. A great big puddle. And a rainbow. A huge treat for a little one. And for the little one's parents too, I should say.

I think this is the first time William has actually seen a rainbow. And just last week, he perfected saying the word 'rain-bow' and pointing at rainbows in a book. He said rainbow lots and lots of times after seeing this one.

These are the little things that make your heart sing. The simplest of fun, splashing in puddles and pointing at rainbows. 

Perfectly Imperfect

I was talking in my last post about our simple days at home; about how we have anchors in the way of meals and sleep times, and everything else flows around that. On thinking about that post, I wonder if it comes across that we have somewhat of a 'perfect' daily routine. Because we don't. To be honest, our days before we discovered the rhythm and repetition that forms our structure, were much more haphazard and tended to drift more. Through a Waldorf approach, and I am still very much a learner in this area, we have brought this simple and beautiful structure to our days. But they are far, far from perfect.

There are still the times when I am tired, and the little things start to get to me. When I think I'm being patient but the limit of my patience is reached [clearly not that patient then..]. When I get frustrated at having not only a small child to tend to and the multitude of play things [who needs toys when kitchen items will suffice?] but also two little dogs under my feet, literally tripping me over. The days when the dogs are removed to the outside and the doggy door is closed. The days when I'm eating chocolate by 11am as a coping mechanism. The occasional [thankfully] day when I call my husband at work, nearly in tears and struggling to hold it together. Like when my little one got powder of washing soda in his eye. Yeah, those days.

Or the days when, for whatever reason, I just don't feel like cleaning up the mess after a meal, again. When it's beautiful outside and I want to go play in the garden, or when I'm itching to write but instead of sitting with macbook I'm scrubbing the walls and floor after lunch. Baby-led weaning is a messy business [but so very worthwhile, our 12 month old feeds himself with cutlery!], even before little one decides to turn the half-eaten bowl of food upside down, or throw the food he doesn't want overboard, or run his soup-covered hands all over his head. Sometimes I just don't feel like cleaning up, again. But the bigger picture keeps me going, the love I have for this little person, for watching him learn and grow and play, makes it all so worthwhile.

I know this is every mother's story. This is what it is to raise a child. Our days are not perfect, but they flow much better than they used to, and I've learned to slow down and focus my time and attention on the things that are most important. It means that some things do need to wait. Not everything I want to get done, gets done. But somehow we still get there. And I call this perfect, because my definition of perfect means perfect now, as is, perfectly imperfect. Not some flashy magazine image of perfect, or whatever else we are told that perfection is. Perfect is our real, messy life. Where soup is flung onto walls and cups of tea are spilled and rouge chickens scratch in my vegie garden. This is my life, and to me it is perfect, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Do you find happiness in the messy side of life?

January: (not) Blogging, Weather and Rhythm

I've not been around blog land much lately. This stage of life is proving most demanding on my time, and in the most wonderful way. I find that I am living more in the present than ever, and less in my own head. The reason for this is a bouncing 10 month old baby boy; still my baby, but in the transition between baby and toddler. I didn't even know there was such a thing, but that is where he's at. I can barely recall what happened yesterday, let alone last week. I'm living so totally in the now. And the now isn't providing much space for taking photos, or editing photos, or writing blog posts, or even reading my favourite blogs. It is an ever changing landscape, life with a very young child. 

I snapped this image last week. It was a hot day, and the clouds rolled in to provide us with thunder and lightening and a little rain in the evening. It was a hot week, probably the hottest five days in a row I've experienced. If it were just me, I would lie on the couch and watch the tennis and not move very much. But with a small baby, I found the heat quite difficult. Little things, like wondering if [hoping] the chickens were ok, but not being able to go check them. I wasn't taking my baby out into that heat. Watching my vegie garden wilting mid-morning, despite a good watering the night before. Not wanting to hang clothes on the line, as I didn't want to leave them out in the harsh sun too long, and knowing that I may not have a chance to go outside and retrieve them. Little things that made life more tricky.

I was heard to say more than once that we should just move to Tasmania. I'm normally a heat lover, and over winter I'm often heard saying we should move to somewhere warmer, maybe the mid-north coast of New South Wales. But this heat, this is not nice. Last summer was the longest dry spell in decades, and this summer is proving to be erratic at best. I believe we are starting to see and feel the effects of this global warming thing. So I expect we will see more of these really hot days in summer, and more of the erratic weather patterns. What will it be like in another 30 years time? 50 years? What will my son experience in his lifetime? Part of me says to just make the best of here, and part of me says move to a cooler climate.

I've been doing an e-course all through January, all about finding rhythm and bringing rhythm to the home, particularly with small children in the home. It is wonderful, and fulfilling and helping me so much to bring rhythm and structure to our days. Simple little things, anchors in our days, bringing ritual and reverence to meal times, being dependable with our daily chores. Hanging out the washing, taking out the chook bucket, bringing in the washing, quiet time after lunch. Ringing the tiny brass bells on a string to signal meal time, a job assigned to our baby who loves it already. You can see more about this course here. I don't want it to end. It has given me so much food for thought, and a beautifully calming start to a new year. 

How is your January going?

Talking About: Baby Led Weaning

I thought I'd share with you some of my thought about this baby led weaning caper. Our baby is now 7.5 months old and we've been eating solids by baby led weaning for about 6 weeks now. I honestly can't imagine feeding him solids any other way. Before we even started on solids proper, we were eating soup for dinner one evening and I offered him some on his little baby spoon, which he grabbed and tried to feed himself with. So I guess that's where it started. 

Because... what could possibly go wrong?

If you're not sure what baby led weaning is all about, google it, but essentially it involves the baby feeding itself from the start, and eating [I use that term lightly] whatever the rest of the family is eating [within reason and common sense]. This means, no 'baby food' in the traditional sense of jars of mush, no homemade combinations of mush, in fact no separate baby meals prepared. I think it can be a little daunting for some, and many people have concerns that the baby will choke on something.

But it seems little babies, once they lose the reflex to push food out of their mouths, are quite capable of mouthing food around, breaking it up with saliva and their gums, and if a large piece does go in the mouth, they seem quite capable of bringing it back up/out again. Obviously you wouldn't ever leave a baby unattended while feeding and I know I watch our little one like a hawk [discreetly mind you, the idea is not to stare at them but to let them get on with eating!].

It is a wonderful thing to see. We have watched our little baby's hand to mouth coordination develop quickly, and his excitement and enthusiasm for meal time is just so lovely. Watching his face when his bowl turns up, seeing him check over everything, touching and rummaging around to see what looks good to eat, and seeing him discard unwanted things over the side of the high chair [yeah, not my favourite part]. Seeing him pick up a piece of food, bring it to his mouth and pop it in. So sweet.

Over the past 6 weeks he has started to eat much more, as he gets better at holding the food in his hands, getting it into his mouth, and chewing it up. I will say though, more food still ends up on the floor than gets into his mouth. I guess something I often think is that we're lucky we can spare the 'wastage' of some food not being eaten [although in this house, there is no wastage as it all goes out to the chooks, so I don't really mind]. But I can envisage that this may be a problem in different circumstances.

Recently we stopped into a cafe after a wander into town and ordered ourselves some hot chips and drinks. Only when our food started to turn up did we realise 'oops!' as we didn't get anything for William, and he's certainly not going to start eating hot chips at 7 months old [unless I make them for him, and I do]. So I went back to the counter to see what I could find, and ended up ordering him a small bowl of fruit salad. It came, and he sat on his Daddy's knee, in the cafe, eating up his fruit salad. A little girl at a table nearby was heard to exclaim 'look, the baby's eating the fruit salad!'. 

I know this baby led weaning thing is not quite mainstream, but I would not do anything else. I would be depriving our baby of the opportunity to explore and learn about food, to choose what he puts into his mouth, to learn about the different textures, and flavours, and colours, and every other sensory aspect of eating. He knows how to eat from a spoon, he's learning that a fork is different [and sharp]. And seeing what he enjoys eating is just so interesting.

I guess in all this, I believe my role here as the mother, is to guide, show, encourage, support. I occasionally get to spoon feed him, when he lets me. I love that our mealtimes are so inclusive, and that what we eat, is mostly what he eats. I am also of the belief that 'food before one is just for fun', as he is still primarily sustained by my breast milk. Motherhood - another instalment of my take on it. 

Have you tried baby led weaning? Or did you use conventional baby feeding to go onto solids? If you have any questions about how this works for us, by all means ask in the comments section and I'll do my best to tell you all I know. I'll also be posting up some baby led weaning meal ideas in the next few weeks if you're interested to know exactly what we eat.

Please bear in mind that this is simply the story of one family - I do not profess to know all the ins and outs of baby feeding or baby led weaning. As always, do your own research and above all, trust your instincts.

What's With Co-Sleeping Anyway?

We co-sleep with our baby. That is, he sleeps in our bed. Now I am aware that there are about a gazillion different opinions out there on how to parent a child, and I'm not in the business of saying our way is the only way. I'll just share what is working for us. We certainly weren't sure if this was the way to go or not and maybe our experience will help other new parents decide what is best for them.

Co-sleeping is to my mind the most natural thing for myself and my baby. Before he was born, we were just normal, run-of-the-mill people setting up our nursery with a bassinet and then a cot. Well, the cot is still waiting to be painted, the mattress is still wrapped in plastic and the bassinet worked for about 5 minutes. And our baby is nearly 6 months old. 

The first few weeks at home, our baby slept in the bassinet next to our bed. There were a lot of grizzles and a lot of settling [by us] involved. And usually, at some point in the early hours of the morning, I would snuggle him in with me, and off he would go to the most peaceful sleep. So it was only ever going to be a matter of time. 

Truth be told, I felt he was too far away from me in the bassinet too. He felt it, I felt it. My instinct told me to tuck him up next to me in bed, but I had researched co-sleeping, and I had fears that I would roll on him in my sleep, or somehow cause SIDS. There is a lot of propaganda getting around in Australia, and government warnings about the dangers of co-sleeping. I should have known better and listened to my instincts sooner.

So with all the cautions in the world, we started co-sleeping through the night with our baby. He only ever sleeps next to me, never my husband. There is a risk of a baby being squashed by anyone other than a breastfeeding mother. I read about studies that showed a breastfeeding mother would instinctively know where her baby was next to her, whereas a bottle-feeding mother would lose that instinct.

I was paranoid that our sheets would be pulled too far up and suffocate him. So I am very cautious about the way I tuck him in, and I never allow the sheets to get too close to him. Doing this, I then felt his shoulders were too exposed, so we always make sure he has a few layers on his arms, and I crocheted up a little shoulder cover for him [which we affectionately call his 'shroud']. And I check and check and check again, that the sheets aren't too close to his face. 

I created a padded side to the bed - spare pillow wedged between the mattress and my bedside table [and held in place by the bassinet, so it did come in handy after all]. So that he can't roll himself out of bed. He's not yet rolling anyway, so this system may need tweaking once he's more mobile. But I can assure you the only way he ever moves is closer to me.

And the benefits in all this? Well, for starters, my little one is safely tucked in next to me. The slightest snuffle from him and I'm onto it [and yet I can sleep through loud rain/dogs scratching the door/alarm clocks]. It strikes me that my husband takes on more of the 'protector' role, and will wake readily to any outside disturbance, which allows me the comfort of sleeping through those outside noises but being perfectly attuned to the needs of my baby.

Then there is breastfeeding. I don't get out of bed to feed my baby in the night. And I'm still feeding anywhere between 3-7 times, or thereabouts. I don't count how many feeds he has. If he gets hungry, he has a feed. I can almost do it in my sleep. Almost. I simply cannot comprehend getting up that many times a night to feed my baby. Or not feeding my baby if he's hungry. So my sleep disruption, even on a bad night, is minimal. Suits me.

And then there is waking up next to the little one... watching him slowly come out of his sleep and open his eyes, blink a few times, and smile at me. No crying, or having to call for me during the night. I'm always right there. Of course there is the issue of space, and a lack of alone time for my husband and I. But it's a sacrifice we're prepared to make. It's not forever. I look forward to a natural progression from co-sleeping when the time is right. Maybe at the 12 month mark? I really don't know. It works for us now, and when it has to shift, it will.  

You know, co-sleeping seems to be such an unusual practice in this country/region/place. The fact that we do it is reason number 27 why we know we're offbeat parents. Ok so there isn't really a list but seriously, there could be. We rarely talk about it with anyone, because we know it will get a strange reaction. Recently my husband came home from work and said he'd had a client with a 10 month old baby. And they co-sleep. I was surprised, and a bit heartened. We're not alone, even though it often feels like it.

Written for anyone who wants to hear the positive side of co-sleeping, not just the fear tactics that seem to circulate about the practice. Always use your common sense, do your own research and for goodness sake, no babies sleeping in the same room as a smoker.

Letting Go

I knew parenthood would change me, in ways that I could't possibly begin to imagine. And it is happening, and I'm changing and growing and evolving all the time. I think for me one of the hardest things has been to let go of any expectations from my days, and be completely present to the now. It's not easy living in the now! It is so much easier to occupy my thoughts with plans for the future, plans for the week, plans for lunch and a cup of tea. And I need to plan ahead at some point anyway, I don't mean just drifting along in life with no direction. I just mean being present in every moment.

There are of course about a million things I want to do, all at once, as always. Like re-designing my vegie garden layout. And making a new sleeping bag for William. And planting new pittosporums to replace the ones that didn't survive last summer. And making a silverbeet and lentil soup for lunch. And sitting down to watch Play School with William if we get the timing right. And taking us all for a walk to stretch our legs and get some fresh air. And pulling some weeds from the pebbled area out the front. Not to mention hanging the washing to dry, and folding the washing that's already dry, and putting on another load of washing. 

And if I'm lucky, I might make some progress on any of those things. It all depends. It depends if William is happy to have a little snooze in the pram while I dig or pull weeds; it depends if William is ok to play on the floor or in his play gym for a few minutes while I fold the washing; it depends if he will be happy to hang out in the carrier while I potter carefully in the kitchen. And it depends if I have the energy to do anything beyond the bare essentials with my day. I guess that's where the letting go lies. If it happens, it happens, and that's great. But I'm learning that I can't do everything, and my priority is always this little baby, and that's ok. 

I appreciate every little thing that I do get to do so much more than I used to. I no longer faff, or waste time, or procrastinate. Because if I get that spare 15 minutes, I'll use it wisely. And I let go of my expectations for my days, and allow them to unfold as they need to. As William needs them to. And cherish these moments because I know they won't last. Even the very draining ones, and the ones where I'm too tired, and the ones where I feel defeated. And sometimes, I still get to make a cake, and eat it too. If I'm lucky.

Babies

My baby is 9 weeks old today. Where does the time go? And he's grown so much, so very fast. I had no idea how fast babies grow. In fact I had no idea about anything much to do with babies. I'm learning, as fast as I can now! I'm a pretty big fan of babies now I have to say. Actually I love them. I've turned into that person that goes 'ooooh' over a little baby, instead of the girl who said 'meh' with complete disinterest when discussion turned to babies. How times have changed.

Aren't they adorable?

And it's pretty good, this having a baby thing. Changing nappies doesn't bother me in the slightest, even though it one of those things people assume is a drawback of having a baby. Waking in the night doesn't bother me much [although ask my husband and he might say otherwise]. Doing constant loads of washing to make sure baby always has clean clothes and nappies doesn't bother me at all - I enjoy the rhythm of the necessary daily tasks. I love having this baby boy.

We got hold of a dvd about learning to understand your baby's talking [found here], which we watched for the first time last night. Now we're analysing every noise the little guy makes. Does he need to be burped? Was that a hungry sound? Oh no I think he's got wind! And so on it goes. We were up for an hour last night trying to settle him based on our new knowledge. I will only say that that's the first time we've been up for an hour in, oh lets see, 9 weeks. Hmmm. I wonder if all he wanted was to go back to sleep in peace. 

Do you know what else happens when you have a small baby? People like you. For no reason other than the fact that you have a little baby. Walking across a pedestrian crossing with baby in arms, and a large man with a scary moustache driving a big old 4WD yells out the window to my husband and I  'nice baby'. Ladies in cafes stop to tell you about their new granddaughter/grandson. People smile at you more. Sometimes I'm in a shop without my baby in my arms, and I wonder why people aren't smiling at me all the time. Then I remember, it's not me. It's my baby.

Ah babies. Life is lovely with a baby.

Surviving Early Parenthood

We've hit the 6 week mark of being parents now! And we have so far survived. It's not always been easy, and there's definitely a few things that have helped us through. Here's to sharing.

#1 - Sugar

Chocolate, to be more specific, although I have branched out to various other forms of instant energy as well. Liquorice all-sorts, jaffas, twirls, milk chocolate, dark chocolate. Oh and prunes. Yep.

#2 - Bucketloads of love, respect and tolerance

For yourself, your partner and the little bub. Because you will be sleep deprived, you won't have the quality one-on-one time with your partner that you used to have, and your entire world will revolve around feeding, changing nappies and doing washing. And it gets draining.

#3 - Tea

Because it's slightly better for you than coffee. Even just hearing the kettle boil is a sign of an impending 'break' - time to sit, sip tea, reconnect. Bliss. I wish for a cup of tea that never runs out.

#4 - A Sense of Humour

For those times when you have to either laugh or cry. Might as well choose laugh.

#5 - Tiny Pants

Because they're so dang cute. Suffice to say, the smallest member of the family wears the pants in our household. Luckily he's an awesome little guy.

Obviously this list is not definitive. But this is what is getting us through at the moment. I should point out that we also eat a balanced [mainly gluten free] diet, get regular exercise and sleep as much as possible.

Are you a parent? Do you have any advice for newbies? Please do share.